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"How many stars ya think there are?"

Harper turned to look at the imp staring up at him from the other side of the battered old mattress they were laying on. He laid back in thought as he took another glance up at the Hellish night sky. He smiled, then pulled Blitzø a little closer. "I couldn't say for sure," he said. "This is nothing like the sky on Earth. If they're anything alike, I would imagine millions - if not billions."

Blitzø sighed happily and let himself melt into the crook of Harper's arm. "Probably," he said. "Y'know, it's been a hot minute since I actually stopped and looked up at night. Glad you suggested this." While Hell was oppressively hot during the day in the summertime, things cooled off a little at night. What better time than to change into a comfy shirt and shorts and accompany Harper on the roof of his house for some stargazing? Turns out the flat "mansard" (as Harper called it) was perfect for laying out a mattress, and easy to access from the tower that dominated the house's face.

"Of course!" Harper replied as he affectionately squeezed the imp's shoulder, "I come up here all the time on warm summer nights. Helps me to clear my mind."

The two demons lay together in silence for several minutes, just watching the cosmos. The pentagram-scarred moon dominated the sky, of course, but it could not hide the sea of stars and galaxies sprinkled across the sky's blood red expanse. Blitzø was surprised at just how soothing it was. He thought that he wouldn't like it, what with astronomy being part of Stolas's job.

Far above, the bright white light of Heaven outshone everything else. The draconic Overlord pointed to it. "Strange how something so menacing can be so beautiful," he murmured, "In just a few months' time, the permanent demise of countless Sinners will descend from that bright, welcoming light in the sky."

Blitzø snorted derisively. "Yeah, speak for yourself. Unlike the sorry bastards who weren't born here, us Hellborn have an except- exact- exam-. They don't kill us."

Harper retorted with a snort of his own. "You're fortunate I'm powerful enough to be safe from the annual Cleanses," he mused, "Even so, the Hellborn are still subject to the child limit."

"Yeah yeah, don't remind me," Blitzø grumbled, "Can't fucking believe that having a Hellhound for a daughter counts extra."

"Well, as you are so fond of pointing out, this is Hell," Harper mused. He reached up to stroke along Blitzø's cheek with the back of his hand. The imp pressed into it as they watched Heaven for a bit.

"You think she's watching us?"

"Hmm?" Harper hummed.

Blitzø gestured up towards Heaven. "Mrs. Harper. You think she's looking down on us right now?"

The dragon remained silent as he mulled it over. Blitzø would have worried had Harper not kept stroking his cheek. Finally he spoke. "I hope she does. And I hope she remembers me fondly as I remember her." Then the Overlord leaned over and planted a soft kiss on Blitzø's forehead, right on the black mark between his horns. It made the imp shiver in delight and huddle closer to the dragon.

"Most importantly of all," Harper added, "I hope that she is happy that I have found somebody new."

Blitzø stretched his left arm over Harper's incredibly broad chest. The Overlord snagged his hand and stroked over it with his thumb. It was something he liked the most about Harper. Once they'd started dating, he'd proven to be really physically affectionate. It filled a need Blitzø hadn't even realized he had (though in hindsight it should've been obvious given how cuddly he tried to be with Loona...and the others).

Now that warm, weird, jittery feeling was back in the imp's gut again, and his heart was racing. He felt it every time he was with Harper. Millie told him a couple weeks back that's what love feels like; it was just like how she felt when dating Moxxie. Blitzø's mind had been blown, and he'd spent the rest of the day thinking about it.

"Harper?" he asked. This was going to be the hardest question of all.

"Yes, my dear?" rumbled Harper.

"Out of all the demons in Hell, how come you picked me?" Blitzø didn't know if he wanted an answer to this question. For months he'd been trying to work up the nerve to ask him. Fuck it. No turning back. "I mean, you're the motherfucking Builder Baron, builder of the Imp City skyline and a big chunk of downtown Pentagram City. Fuck, you own my neighborhood and I think M&M's too!"

Blitzø waved his hand at the sky. "You got pick of the litter, and probably a million demons lining up for a crack at ya. Why go with the goofy ex-circus performer who's good with guns?"

Harper didn't say anything at first. He quietly cupped the back of the imp's head to keep him close. At long last, he began. "It's true many demons from lowly imps to fellow Overlords have sought my affections over the past 120-odd years. Yet I remained resolutely single, save for the occasional fling. Until now, nobody here has suited my particular tastes. To make matters worse, most of my potential suitors only sought to get close to me for immediate personal gain.

"The night before I learned about I.M.P. and arranged to meet with you, I had just aborted a 'one-night stand,' as you would call it, with a beautiful pair of succubi. It did not go anywhere, because it was painfully obvious they were more interested in my money and my rank than they were in me." Harper pressed down on his chest for emphasis. "I was too disgusted with their true priorities, and so I dismissed them.

"I needed to find someone I found a kindred spirit in," he continued, "It needed to happen by my initiative, and on my own terms. Else I would run the risk of more stolen valuables during the night," he paused and chuckled coldly, "Not that any demon who has stolen from me has ever lived long after the fact."

After seeing just a fraction of his power on the day they'd first met, Blitzø had to laugh. "It'd take a real numbshit to think it's a good idea to rob your ass, Harps."

"Harps?"

The imp looked up at the Overlord, who was now looking at him with a quirked brow. "Yeeeeeah," he said hesitantly, "Just a nickname for you. Doesn't piss you off, does it?"

Harper smiled. "Not at all, dearest." He pulled Blitzø on top of him and nuzzled his nose. "Just be careful who you call me that in front of. It could undermine my authority with my subordinates if they were to hear an imp call me a pet name."

The imp sighed happily and let himself sprawl out over the large dragon's warm, solid torso. He didn't even care that Harper could probably feel just how turned on he was right now. "Anyways, that didn't answer my question. Why pick someone like me?"

Harper reached up to cup Blitzø's chin so that their eyes met. Normally the imp's pride would make him resent this much manhandling, but in the strong arms and hands of his new boyfriend (it still felt weird calling him that!), it felt right.

"Because," said the dragon, "I see in you a kindred spirit. You and I are men of business - bold entrepreneurs who found a market to tap. I've seen up close your ambitions and your drive for success. Your keen sense for showmanship also drew me. If I didn't know better, I would think P.T. Barnum had reappeared in Hell as an imp!"

"No idea who the fuck that is, but I'm guessing that's good, right?" said Blitzø with an awkward laugh.

Harper laughed along with him. "It is. But my point is, your standing in Hell's society matters little to me. What I care about is the potential." He touched a talon to Blitzø's forehead. "You've seen for yourself how far I.M.P. has come in the several months we've worked together. All you needed was a little push."

Blitzø was thankful it was dark out. Otherwise Harper would be able to see just how purpled over his cheeks were from the intense blush. "Oh ho ho ho yeah, when you put it that way, things have been pretty awesome lately, huh? I know Stolas doesn't give a shit. Before you showed up he would only ever give us just enough work to keep-" he froze.

Stolas. The one thing that had been keeping Blitzø up at night. Being with Harper always took his mind off that horny birdbrain. But worry had been percolating in the back of his mind ever since that standoff in his office.

"Hey Harps?" he said. He hadn't used such a meek tone since he was a whelp, and he cringed knowing his Dad would beat his ass if he heard him using it. "What about Stolas?"

"What about him?" Harper asked right back, just as cool as could be.

"I mean, I really don't give a flying rat's left nut what he wants from me, but you guys hate each other. I'm guessing he probably wouldn't be happy if he found out his fucktoy's dating his worst enemy." When Harper nodded grimly, Blitzø swallowed hard. "I know he'll never do anything to me or I.M.P. - the clingy bitch is too sentimental. But aren't you afraid of what he'll do to you? My Dad used to tell me stories growing up about the war you guys had."

It was hard for Blitzø to stay tense when Harper was rubbing his back in slow, lazy circles. Even so, he awaited Harper's answer. He had to know just how dangerous the Goetic Prince was, right?

"I wish to share a little about my life, and I promise I will be brief," Harper said.

Now he had Blitzø's undivided attention. Outside of horseback riding and his wife, Harper didn't really talk about his past life. Normally Blitzø wouldn't give two shits about a Sinner's human memories, but when Harper had an anecdote to share from the Living World, it was usually as important as it was rare.

"When I moved to Minnesota from New York in 1856, I took the greatest risk of my life," he said, "I had saved up just enough to build a sawmill and buy logging rights. That was all the money I had, and if that sawmill busted out, so would I." Harper stopped rubbing Blitzø's back as he continued. "That almost happened too; I almost lost everything. Just one year in there was a run on the banks and prices for just about everything collapsed, and I'd bought in when prices were at all-time highs."

"Aaaaaand that's bad, right?" Blitzø interjected.

Harper nodded, "It was terrible! For years afterward things were lean at the best of times. A lot of other aspiring lumbermen didn't make it. I didn't think I'd make it either."

He paused, then chuckled softly. "I suppose that is another reason I am so drawn to you," he murmured as he traced his finger over one of the imp's horns, "You remind me so much of the fresh-faced youth I was when I first set foot in Minnesota Territory two lifetimes ago."

"Whoa whoa whoa, hold up," Blitzø exclaimed, "I didn't sign up to indulge in some weird-ass selfcest fantasy."

Harper threw his head back in a bark of surprised laughter. "Nothing like that, darling! You know what I mean."

"Right, right," Blitzø agreed, though he had absolutely no idea what Harper had meant.

The Overlord continued. "I almost lost everything, but through my own perseverance and perhaps a dash of providence, I came out on top by the time the war between the states had concluded. And I would do it all over again if I had to." He pointedly looked over to Blitzø, "In a way, that's exactly what I did when I came to Hell.

"I did not allow myself to be intimidated by the House of Goetia, in the time they dominated what is now Imp City." Harper grinned, "Your father was fortunate to have survived the war between myself and Prince Stolas. Moving to Minnesota to start a sawmill may have been my greatest risk in life, but that war was the greatest risk of my afterlife. Once again I almost lost everything. Many good Sinners and Hellborn alike were lost to Oblivion, aided by His Highness's access to Divine Steel."

Now the dragon was sitting up, though Blitzø continued to rest against his chest as he straddled his lap. "His Highness will tell you that he won that war, and he indeed was able to extract a hefty tribute from me. But he was unable to retrieve his vassals' lost land. What I took from them became my territory, and from it I prospered."

Blitzø mulled this over for a moment. His arms had unconsciously curled around Harper's broad barrel chest. With only a thin cotton shirt between them, it was easy to feel the raw physical power underneath. "Soooooo your point is?"

Again, Harper laughed, then lowered his head to bump noses with the imp again. "It means that you let me handle Prince Stolas. I know the man well, and what he is capable of. I'm used to taking risks, and one angry old hen isn't going to daunt me."

"Harps, that's really sweet and all, but I don't think you understand," Blitzø said as he straightened up, "Stolas is like really, really fucking clingy. He still calls and texts me at least a few times a day, all of it drooling over how bad he wants me to fuck him. He's not gonna let me go without a fight. You could really get hurt, or even-mmmph!"

Blitzø's fear-driven tangent was abruptly cut off when Harper pressed him into a firm, passionate kiss. Almost immediately, the imp's fears and worries were flushed out of his system, and his eyelids fluttered as warmth overtook his body. His arms clung to the dragon's broad chest once more, and he panted through his nose in relief and excitement.

Harper deepened the kiss further. His dark lips parted, and his thin, serpentine tongue danced with Blitzø's. It wasn't often that the imp found a makeout partner who could match his freakishly long tongue, but Harper definitely fit the bill. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his whole face flushed. Blitzø's hands ran over Harper's chest and along his sides. The thick slabs of muscle hidden tantalizingly underneath the thin fabric made him shiver.

The imp was abruptly brought back to reality when his leg bumped into something in Harper's lap. He broke away from the kiss. Both of them were panting and sweating. Blitzø glanced down to confirm his suspicions. The dragon's freakishly huge erection tented out his lounge pants. "Jesus Tittyfucking Christ it really is as big as my arm," he breathed.

Harper smirked playfully, then brazenly reached forward. Blitzø gasped as the Overlord's fingers pressed into the tent jutting out of his own shorts. "I think," he rumbled, "That we should retire to my bedroom for the night. Then we can continue our discussion someplace more private..."

Blitzø slowly nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "Yeah...yeah let's do this! Show me whatcha got, big guy!"

The Overlord chuckled, then got up from the mattress. He effortlessly picked Blitzø up and cradled him in his strong arms. The imp would've relaxed if he weren't so fucking horny right this minute. As Harper carried him through the open window of the tower and back into the house, he craned his head up to kiss and nip at the dragon's jaw and neck. Occasionally Harper would respond in kind.

Blitzø's heart was beating out of his chest. It was happening. It was finally fucking happening! All those fantasies he'd been having while jerking off and banging Stolas were about to be made real! Speaking of which, what was that birdbrain up to anyways? Probably something stupid and/or perverted. The imp let that be the last thought he had about the Prince of Hell for tonight as Harper carried him down the stairs to his bedroom.

---

Progress on Stolas's love letter had finally been achieved! It took almost two full days without sleep, only leaving his office to use the bathroom. Dirty dishes from meals brought to him were stacked on his desk, and the floor around it had become buried in a sea of crumpled up paper after the wastebasket had overflowed.

Now though, the Prince of Hell had finally made headway. Sighing in relief, he regarded the neat stack of pages on one of the few clean parts of his desk. Each page had a few paragraphs of printed words each.

Stolas took a moment to brush some stray feathers out of his face. When was the last time he'd preened? He couldn't remember. For that matter, he should probably shower and get a change of clothes. Now, he just had to proofread.

He picked up the top page and rubbed the crumbs out of his tired eyes. This would be the one, the draft acceptable to send to Blitzø! Now settled back in his chair, he read the first line.

My dearest Blitzy,

After all these years, I have not yet expressed just how deeply my feelings run for you. It is time that you finally know the truth:

All work and no imp makes Stolas a hungry bird.

Stolas blinked. He didn't remember writing this. For the past hours he'd been wracking his brain finding the most eloquent, flowery words. Grimacing in apprehension, he continued to read.

All work and no imp makes Stolas a hungry bird. All work and no imp makes Stolas a hungry bird. All work and no imp makes Stolas a hungry bird.

All work and no imp makes Stolas a hungry bird. All work and no imp makes Stolas a hungry bird. All work and no imp makes Stolas a hungry bird.

All work and no imp makes Stolas a hungry bird.

All work and no imp makes Stolas a hungry bird.

Stolas's right pair of eyes twitched involuntarily. He set the first page aside and looked at the next page. It was filled top to bottom with the same demented refrain. He looked at the third, then the fourth, then the fifth. The same sentence over and over was arranged in a variety of ways. Each page grew increasingly disorganized, all proclaiming the same thing:

All work and no imp makes Stolas a hungry bird.

Groaning, Stolas gripped his headfeathers between his fingers. There was only one page left on his desk. With quivering talons, the Prince of Hell reached for it. Surely his labors had born some fruit. Was there anything he could salvage from this catastrophe?

This page had only one single sentence printed square in the middle. It was different from the mantra that had taken up all the other pages.

gimme that big red pp

Gardening and groundskeeping staff working outside the house were suddenly startled from their tasks by an earth-shattering screech. Those working at the back of the house who looked up fast enough were able to see a dark metal object hurtle through one of the house's plate glass window and go sailing over the horizon.

In the three seasons room, Princess Stella looked up from her tea at the sudden noise overhead. She rolled her eyes and took another sip.

"Don't ask, Stella," she reminded herself, "You'll be much happier if you don't know."